


Monsters

by tyomawrites



Category: BBC Sherlock
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Pain, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1345828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyomawrites/pseuds/tyomawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can fight monsters that attack you in a fight. But whose to say you can fight them in your head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was something between them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What if Moriarty didn't know Sherlock faked his death? And he almost died because of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.

Think about it?

You can’t fight the monsters inside your head. Physical monsters, leave scars, re-open closed wounds in attempt to heal. Monsters deep inside of your mind, control your very existence with the pain they give. They haunt with every pleasure they take from you. Taint all in your mind where they can reach.

Did he want to die? Did he want to hurt himself, to the point of no return and watch as anyone who loved him, burn...

“Sherlock!” He cried out in pain.... soft echoes bouncing of stone walls, chains wrapped around his waist, wrist and ankles, blood stained floor providing a cold, unrelenting torture in it’s own mind.  
But Sherlock wasn’t there.

No more Sherlock to catch him when he’d fall.

No more phone calls at night.

Small, simple, sweet, gestures.

A small smile.

A simple kiss on his forehead, or cheek.

His laugh.

His eyes.

His heart.

Sherlock had a heart.

Moriarty thought to himself. He did it every day. He screamed, cried, pleaded, begged, groveled, but the unrelenting assault of his memories, memories he tried so hard to lock away were hammering at his heart. But no one heard him. It’s all in his head.

 

**

“Jim, if you can hear me? Please.... everything’s, just boring... I miss you. Wake up? For me?” Sherlock muttered.

Jim was lying in a hospital bed, in a coma. Sherlock saw everything, he ran.... Jim ran straight into oncoming traffic, away from Sherlock.... well, to be fair, he did force Sherlock to jump of the rooftop, he did think Sherlock was dead.

“Please?” He grasped Jim’s hand, bowing his head and resting his forehead on his hand.

“I miss you...” He pressed a soft kiss to the smooth skin. Jim always never liked getting his hands dirty.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

 

As a forest sprouts around me and the skies grow dark, where mist fogs up my vision and branches become barricades to black my path, where roots trip me, as my own words, where vines are wrapping themselves around me, dragging me to my death.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sow seeds of doubt and let me die, the one I love in this world no longer breathes by my side, and I pushed him to the edge, I forced him to jump, I didn't think he would do it.

 

* * *

 

 

He burnt me just like I burnt him. I ran out the ran, I could hear screaming, but I didn't realise it was coming from me. A high pitched shriek and I crossed the road without looking. I heard you call my name, I turned and saw the head lights of the car, how could I have been so careless. 

We made eye contact, just before I heard a screech. I mouthed to you 'I'm sorry' as I felt blinding pain in my side. I realized I was going to die, I'd leave you alone. Then I remembered you were dead Sherlock. And I'm coming to you.

 

* * *

I can hear the ambulance and see the blur of red lights and I'm falling.

 

 

* * *

 

_I love you. -SH_

_What brought this on? ~JM_

_Something John said this morning. -SH_

_Can you come to the flat tonight? ~JM_

_On a case. -SH_

_That I gave you. ~JM_

_You're making me sad Sherly... ~JM_

_Sherly? ~JM_

_Sherlock? ~JM_

_SHERLOCK ANSWER ME! ~JM_

_SHERLOCK HOLMES ANSWER THE PHONE!!! ~JM_

_ANSWER THE GOD DAMNED PHONE SHERLOCK!!! ~JM_

WILLIAM SHERLOCK SCOTT HOLMES ANSWER ME THIS INSTANT!! ~JM

..... sherlock? ~JM

 

* * *

 

 

_"Your pretty little detective isn't coming back."_

 

_"Who are you? Where's Sherlock?"_

 

_"Don't you remember me? I'm you Jim, and Sherlock's dead, because of you."_

 

* * *

 

 

_It's all your fault Sherlock's dead. You pushed him too far, you made him stand up on that ledge and jump._

**_Stop it!_ **

_Hissing at yourself isn't going to make it stop Jim. We warned you about him... but did you listen?_

**_Leave me alone!_ **

_poor Jim, you're a monster, you killed the only man who would ever love you! Regret it Jim Moriarty because tonight you die._

**_"Sherlock,..... _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock, _sherlock." His name echoed in my head._________________ **

* * *

 

 

 

"Sherlock..." I lifted my head slowly, Jim was muttering and twitching. 

"Sherlock." He spoke a little louder, eyes squeezed tightly.

"Please don't jump... I'm sorry... I never wanted you too, I'm sorry...." He whimpered unceremoniously.

"It's okay Jim, I'm right here, all here for you." Sherlock comforted and Jim relaxed under his comforting arms.

"I love you Sherlock... if only you were still here." Jim whispered, falling back into unconsciousness.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

Sherlock loved seeing Jim smile when he walked in after a meeting, Westwood as perfect as he could get it and a silly grin on his face. He'd smile, offer a trip to get some coffee, and drag Sherlock out of his flat before he even said a word, pressing a kiss to his cheek before smiling.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Monsters sleep under our beds, but the ones that kill us live inside our heads.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sow seeds of doubt, and strangle me with the figs that grow, as a forest sprouts around me and the skies grow dark, where mist fogs up my vision and branches become barricades to black my path, where roots trip me, as my own words, where vines are wrapping themselves around me, dragging me to my death.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Monsters whisper and spread lies, the hold you down and hurt you from inside.

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock loved Jim, he really did, so when he watched the blood pool as Jim hit the cement on the rooftop, he felt himself shatter. He couldn't stop blaming himself, that why he jumped, because maybe if he jumped, it wouldn't hurt as bad. 

 

* * *

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of abuse/rape

Think about it?

 

* * *

 

 

You can’t fight the monsters inside your head. Physical monsters, leave scars, re-open closed wounds in attempt to heal. Monsters deep inside of your mind, control your very existence with the pain they give. They haunt with every pleasure they take from you. Taint all in your mind where they can reach.

 

Did he want to die? Did he want to hurt himself, to the point of no return and watch as anyone who loved him, _burn..._

 

* * *

 

 

“Sherlock!” He cried out in pain.... soft echoes bouncing of stone walls, chains wrapped around his waist, wrist and ankles, blood stained floor providing a cold, unrelenting torture in it’s own mind.

But Sherlock wasn’t there.

 

* * *

 

 

No more Sherlock to catch him when he’d fall.

 

No more phone calls at night.

 

Small, simple, _sweet,_ gestures.

 

A small smile.

 

A simple kiss on his forehead, or cheek.

 

His laugh.

 

His eyes.

 

His heart.

 

Sherlock had a heart.

 

* * *

 

 

Moriarty thought to himself. He did it every day. He screamed, cried, pleaded, begged, groveled, but the unrelenting assault of his memories, memories he tried so hard to lock away were hammering at his heart. But no one heard him. It’s all in his head.

 

 


End file.
